


Where My Marbles Went

by ironhawkofmischief



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Jaskier grows old, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, no beta we die like witchers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23093806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironhawkofmischief/pseuds/ironhawkofmischief
Summary: Geralt slowly watches the love of his life grow old until it is just too late.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 9
Kudos: 102





	Where My Marbles Went

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to TAD this kinda... came to me on top of a reincarnate AU where Geralt lives forever and Jaskier is reborn. But Geralt had left for a hunt and returned to find his old lover passed and he was not there. So, yeah happy angst everyone

Geralt knew things had started to change when Jaskier was unable to hold his lute properly. When hands started to shake and he would fumble over the chords. When beautiful brown hair had started to turn silver and grey. It was almost as if Geralt had blinked and Jaskier’s much shorter human life was almost over with. 

It had made his heart ache every single time he went to check on the man who sometimes recognized him and others? He didn’t know who Geralt was. Geralt would spend sometimes an hour or more reassuring Jaskier who he was and why he was there. A lot of times it worked, and something would click and the bard would become as perky as he could in old age and ask about going on a hunt. Geralt would always steer the conversation elsewhere. 

Geralt had loved having him on the road with him. The path had been not as heavy with Jaskier at his side. Now though? Jaskier would get tired just from walking to the kitchen and back. Sometimes, the bard couldn’t even get out of bed so Geralt would prop him up with as many pillows as they had and would happily regail him with things they had done in their past. 

His heart ached everytime Jaskier would laugh but have no idea these stories were about him or what he did as a youth or even into his 40s. Geralt had just wished and hoped that Jaskier would live… longer. Maybe even as long as he did? He had so much as went to Yennefer and begged for something; anything. She had tried but had never came up with anything that could extend a human’s life for more than a few years. 

Now, it was time for another hunt. Jaskier knew something was wrong as he paced back and forth. He looked thinner, hair falling out and he coughed a lot. Geralt had to go kill this damned selkiemore. He was still obligated to witcher’s duties even if he shirked them more or less for his ailing love. 

“I promise to be back soon, a few days,” Geralt reassured Jaskier as he helped him sit. “Someone will be by with food and to check on you. I promise you won’t be alone,” Geralt soothed as he pushed his hand through the too thin hair. Jaskier gave a light huff and whimper as he leaned against him,

“I can take care of myself,” his voice ragged and hoarse from age. He hadn’t been able to sing in over a decade which had caused both bard and witcher a little bit of stress,

“Yes, yes I know,” Geralt soothed again, “two days max got it?” Jaskier nodded and closed his eyes as his lover gave him a gentle kiss upon his forehead. 

Geralt had left. Those two days had turned to ten and that ten into thirty. It had taken a lot longer with travel and the weather than he had planned for. He rode up on his horse, Roach, and had stopped in front of the small cottage. Geralt instantly knew something was… wrong. He could smell it. The scent of death.

“Fuck,” he cursed as he jumped down and even without tying up his horse, threw open the cottage door. All the scents assaulted him. The smells of Jaskier’s cologne and products he still used into old age, spoiled food, and the scent of death. “No, no no,” he chanted as he quickly walked into the room where Jaskier lay. His body was limp, cold and his eyes closed. 

Geralt had to focus to not let the tears fall as he put a hand on the body and checked him over, “no rigor… Cold…” He murmured in the same mechanical way he did when looking over dead animals or bodies he found. “Probably passed within the last 14 hours... “ Geralt checked everything else to really make sure. He could tell that Jaskier had passed in his sleep most likely of heart failure. At least he had gone in his sleep. 

The witcher plopped into the chair as he grabbed the cold, lifeless hand and felt a sob wrack his body as he closed his eyes, “I’m so sorry my little lark. I wasn’t here in your time of need. I hope in another lifetime you may be able to forgive me.”


End file.
